Life was good to Scipio Fortunato.

"Hello, Prosper?"

"Hi, yeah, can you come over? Now?"

"Sure. Why?"

He could almost hear him blush. "Nothing, just wanted to talk to you. Been a while."

Scipio grinned. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

Prosper didn't reply.

"I'm a detective for a reason, Prop. Coming over in five."

"In two."

"In ten."

"Asshole."

"See you." He laughed.

The agency was going all right- he had just gotten a missing pet case and was working on tracing a leak, and the clients were not as stingy as usual ("Not more than five thousand lira per day." "Oh, that's all right, Signora Bellini! Perfectly fine.") . Victor was feeling better, Mosca was coming over (or so he had said), Hornet's health was well, Bo seemed... troubled.

That was the one trouble Scipio had right now.

Bo had been somewhat different ever since he had started eighth grade. Aloof, dizzy, spending more time in his room. His gait had changed from active and fast to shuffling and guilty.

Scipio was pretty sure it was drugs, but he wanted to have proof; and if he confronted Bo, Prosper would get angry for being seen as irresponsible and for being reminded that Bo was slightly closer to Scipio.

Shaking his head, he stepped out into the sunshine. Life was good indeed.